Mark Solovey, Social Science for What? Battles over Public Funding for the ‘Other Sciences’ at the National Science Foundation (Cambridge, MA: M.I.T. Press, 2020). 398 pp. $50.00 (pb). ISBN: 978-0-262-53905-0.

Lucian Bessmer, Harvard University

Social Science for What? is a remarkably detailed history of the National Science Foundation (NSF) from 1945 to the late 1980s that makes a compelling case for the influence of the Foundation on American social science. Those familiar with author Mark Solovey’s Shaky Foundations will recognize the care that he has put into presenting an account built on rich archival materials to “follow the money” in order to show the impact of what he calls the “politics-patronage-social science nexus” (10-12). Where Shaky Foundations examined how the Ford Foundation, the U.S. military, and the NSF shaped the social sciences, Social Science for What? delves deeper into the NSF in an attempt to address a gap Solovey identifies in the literature: the role of civilian agencies as patrons of social science. This in itself makes this book an important contribution to the large body of work on Cold War scientific patronage, which generally focuses on the relationships between science, the military, and intelligence agencies. But the more ambitious claim of Social Science for What? is that the NSF played a significant part in positioning the human sciences as participants in the “unified scientific enterprise” (12). Solovey argues that mimicking the methods and epistemic justification of the natural sciences may have enabled the social sciences to carve out a tiny redoubt in the NSF, but ultimately it created barriers to their health and development, disincentivizing the most beneficial aspects of these fields.

The book’s ten chapters offer a roughly chronological investigation of how stakeholders of the social sciences, both inside and outside of the NSF, sought to legitimize a collection of fields that were treated with skepticism at best and as a menace to American society at worst. Solovey crafts each chapter around a person, a set of legislative proposals or controversies, or the shifting organization and priorities of the social science division leadership at the NSF. Chapter 1 sets the stage with the first efforts to create the NSF in 1945. During the post-war period there was tremendous enthusiasm for science (and especially physical science) in the United States, creating an opportunity for prominent figures in the scientific community to advocate for additional federal support for basic physical science. Many of the most influential people spearheading this effort, such as Vannevar Bush, science advisor to President Harry Truman, doubted the relevance and rigor of the social sciences, but calculated lobbying led to the reluctant inclusion of the social sciences in the NSF, on the grounds that these fields were a nascent branch of a unified science. Chapter 2 follows Harry Alpert, the head of social science efforts at the NSF during the McCarthy era. In a time when social science was under intense scrutiny, Alpert chose a pragmatic approach to champion social science, described by his successor Henry Reicken as “underdogging” or “allying one’s cause with stronger others, in this case the physical and biological sciences” (56). Chapters 3 and 4 show how this further cemented the strategy of proponents of the social sciences at the NSF from the late 1950s to the late 1960s, with a continued effort to attract funding through the proximity to other more respected fields at the Foundation. Many scholars opposed this positivist approach, instead calling for a defense of social science through a demonstration of its unique strengths. Despite this criticism, leaders at the NSF sought to maintain legitimacy through scientism, actively working against attempts to separate from their aspirational peers such as the creation of a separate National Social Science Foundation (130). Chapter 5 shows how the combination of financial austerity and opposition from legislators in both the Democratic and Republican parties in the late 1960s and 1970s created a hostile environment for social science research at the NSF. Emblematic of this period was Senator William Proxmire’s “golden fleece,” which he awarded to the federal research that he saw as the biggest waste of taxpayer money – often NSF-supported social science research (146-155). Chapters 6 and 7 highlight the emphasis the NSF put on the “hard wing” of social science. This included “big science” work like the National Election Studies, and projects that incorporated economics methods and theories (195, 256). Chapters 7 and 8 bring us through the massive cuts to federal support of social science during the Reagan era, further driving the NSF to supporting only the “hardest” social science research.

The two final chapters directly address the through line of the book: The NSF played a major role in the post-war ascendance of a positivist case for the social sciences, one where research is objective, non-controversial, and above all, scientific enough to be a part of a unified scientific community. Those controlling the NSF’s purse strings perennially sought legitimacy through association with more respected fields, a choice that ultimately weakened, rather than strengthened, social science. Solovey closes with the recommendation that social scientists should seriously consider advocating for a separate national foundation. He acknowledges how unlikely it is for such an effort to succeed but argues that we should not make excuses “for resigned acceptance of the status quo” (316). This is a compelling argument, and this history of the social sciences at the NSF is strong evidence that the scientism approach has failed, but it is unclear who Solovey is trying to convince. He points to Congress and the NSF itself as obstacles to such a foundation, but what about rank-and-file social scientists?

Social Science for What? includes portraits of those in or closely tied to the NSF who were true believers in the unity of science, those that promoted scientism despite their private beliefs, and examples of the exclusion of left-leaning social scientists from decisions on the future of the NSF. An important part of this story is the choices made by departments that prioritized the “hard wing” of social science to legitimate themselves, and their legacy through the students that they trained, which could be addressed more explicitly in this study. Social Science for What? is an excellent book, and one that I am glad to have on my bookshelf, but it leaves open the question of where a new National Social Science Foundation would fit into existing efforts to buttress nuclear age social science. Perhaps the implications of the NSF’s impact on these fields further reinforces how patronage moulds social science, but are the biggest barriers to a better social science Congress, the NSF, and private sources of funding? I left this book wondering that if social scientists must abandon the positivist argument of their contribution, does the path forward involve convincing the people with the purse strings or should we rather convince our colleagues?